Effie's palms broke into a sweat. She rubbed first one, then the other, against her hips, trying to dry them. She had nothing -- nothing at all -- to offer Richard Sharpe in thanks. She didn't even know what his How would be.

She folded her arms across her chest. Shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Was there a ladies' room in this shop?

"Ah. How. How to thank. There's many, many ways to thank someone. Gifts; favors; words..."